


Out of the Woods

by Twyd



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Attraction, Control Issues, Denial, Developing Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Slash, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 20:50:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10772187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: "Shizu-chan is even easier to manipulate than the high-schoolers. A puppet made of monster blood and muscle, he is hurling himself after Izaya like his life depends on it, and it is hilarious. It always is."





	Out of the Woods

Shizu-chan is even easier to manipulate than the high-schoolers. A puppet made of monster blood and muscle, he is hurling himself after Izaya like his life depends on it, and it is hilarious. It always is.

It is hilarious not only because it is part of Izaya’s plan (and everything always goes to plan, he barely even has to try anymore), but because he’s making Shizuo miss his little brother’s big show. His big moment. Most of Kasuka’s work takes him out of Tokyo, sometimes even out of Japan, so it wasn’t often Shizuo had a premiere to go to where he could be the proud older brother. Izaya doesn’t doubt that Tom or someone would have tried to stop him, but _nothing_ stops Shizuo once he gets Izaya in his sight, he’s like a shark that scents blood. And it’s so easy, so fun, Izaya almost loves him for it.

He’s running like he’s not even trying, like he does when he’s just winding Shizuo up and not needing to throw him off, and Shizuo must know this, he must know Izaya's luring him further and further away from the theatre, but he keeps going. Shizuo _always_ keeps going, he’s like a dog after a bird, never accepting that Izaya will always get away.

Izaya looks over his shoulder lazily, letting Shizuo get as close as he dares, almost close enough to touch, and then decides he’s had enough. He breaks out into a full sprint, out of the crowds and away from the city without looking back.

He makes it all the way to Shinjuku without checking behind him, but he knows by some kind of instinct that Shizuo is still there. The brute would normally give up at this point, when it’s clear Izaya is pulling away, so he must be livid to chase Izaya this far out.

Izaya’s not worried. If _he’s_ getting tired, he can’t imagine how Shizuo must feel.

He goes towards the outskirts of the National Garden, hopping over one of the fences away from the main entrance. He can make a donation on his way out. He loves it here, knows which areas will be secluded at this time of day, and surely someone will see the protozoan charging around and throw him out.

He’s buried in the forest somewhere far off the path, when he realises he can’t hear Shizuo any more. He skids to a halt. The trees blow gently over his head as he gets his breath. It's beautiful here, secluded. Maybe Shizuo caught sight of some flowers or something and decided to chill out and call it a day.

Izaya smiles, pleased with himself. Perhaps he’ll lie down for a moment and let his heart ease back to normal. Give Shizuo a chance to maybe make it back in time for his brother's applause.

He’s still smiling when Shizuo crashes into him. The force of it sends them both careering backwards, rolling over each other on the grass, and Shizuo of course ends up on top of him with pure murder in his eyes.

 _Shit_ , Izaya thinks, as he struggles uselessly, and it is the closest here's come to panic in a long, long time. _Shitshitshitshit._

There is no-one around to help, and he has no hope of getting Shizuo off him, so he acts blind: in the confusion of it all, he pulls Shizuo down by the shirt and kisses him.

Izaya feels him freeze. When he doesn’t move, when his grip doesn't slacken, Izaya kisses him harder, pressing closer, determined to distract him just enough to get a knee in his crotch, maybe a blade out of his pocket, anything, so long as he could run.

He lets go of Shizuo’s shirt to pull his arms round his neck, pressing his thigh up into his groin, and has to fight back a smile as he feels Shizuo respond.

 _Yes_ , he thinks deliriously. _Yes, you stupid animal, just go with it til I find a stick to shove in your eye._

Izaya pushes at him experimentally as he kisses him, but Shizuo growls in warning and kisses harder.

Their bodies are still hot from running, Shizuo’s so firm and adrenalin-fuelled and heavy, that Izaya is getting hard before he even realises it. It doesn’t matter, he thinks. It will make it more convincing. Shizuo, he notes, is also hard. It should be funny, the absurdity of it, but Shizuo presses into him in a certain way, his hands gliding under Izaya’s shirt, and the weight and the strain of him make it hard to think clearly. Although he's adamant he's still in control, he loses himself in it for just a moment.

 _If I can just get him on his back,_ he thinks, even as Shizuo pins his wrists. _If I get him to think I’ll suck him off, I’ll be out of here before he’s even fastened his pants._

That, at least, was the plan. He tells himself he’s just waiting for the opportunity. If he times it wrong, if he tries to run and doesn’t make it, Shizuo will undoubtedly kill him. He will pull a tree out of the ground and beat Izaya to death with it.

This is part of the plan, so he’s not sure how, after more than a few minutes, he’s still moaning on his back with his own pants open, Shizuo biting him whenever he gets too loud. He tries pulling himself up, flipping them, digging his heels into Shizuo’s back where he knows it will hurt, but Shizuo just pushes back harder, holds him however he wants him, grinds his wrist-bones together in his hands, and it is so _good_. He tells himself, clinging to Shizuo with leaves and dirt all over them, surely no more than a few metres away from families and the other innocent visitors, that this is fine. That Shizuo is doing exactly what he, Izaya, wants.

He tries to get his hand inside Shizuo’s pants again, but Shizuo beats him to it, stroking the informant while he nuzzles his neck, deceptively gentle. Izaya’s eyes close with the intensity of it. Part of him gives up, his hands reaching blindly over his head for something to hold on to, because he keeps clinging and curling into Shizuo and he needs to stop that, he’s supposed to be getting _away_.

 _Why is he doing this_ , Izaya thinks blindly, humming and aching for more, his skin tingling wherever Shizuo kisses and touches him. It occurs to him, somewhere in the back of his brain,that Shizuo must have realised that he’ll never make it back in time for Kasuka’s show, and that he’ll want to make Izaya pay for it. Izaya laughs, giddy with fear and want, and Shizuo growls at him to shut up. He pulls Izaya up suddenly, letting himself fall back against a tree trunk for support, and pulls the informant into his lap. 

Part of Izaya's brain tells him that this is it, he needs to _run_ while he’s up and Shizuo’s arms are slack round his waist, but he is pressed right down on Shizuo’s erection, Shizuo is kissing him and holding him, his hand is going back down between Izaya’s legs, and it’s still so, _so_ good that he’s clinging to Shizuo, squirming to get closer to him instead of away.

“Were you supposed to run at some point?” Shizuo says into his ear, and it takes Izaya a moment to process what he’s said. That Shizuo is _teasing_ him. 

“Stop,” he pleads, as Shizuo’s hand move faster. “I’m going to come.”

“Good.”

“It’s not good, I – I'm- “

His eyes close as his head tips back, toes curling, and he grab fistfuls of Shizuo’s hair, his clothes, whatever he can, as his orgasm rocks through him.

He collapses against Shizuo when he’s finished, boneless and breathing hard. He realises Shizuo has come too, has no idea when.

Birds sing around them, faint and far away, while children play in the distance. Shizuo’s hair smells of grass. He has to pull himself away or he'll be lost.

“We should probably go,” he hears himself saying, to fill the silence. His voice sounds odd, like Shizuo had strangled him. “We could, ah, get arrested for this.”

“It’s a bit late for that.”

Shizuo eases him back, and Izaya takes the hint and moves away. They adjust their clothes without looking at each other.  It somehow doesn’t occur to Izaya that Shizuo could destroy him now – he looks as out of it as Izaya feels.

 Izaya tries to look pleased with himself – this had, after all, sort of, been part of the plan – but he’s vaguely disturbed by how quickly it escalated.  

Shizuo meets his eye, as if reading his thoughts. He is still flushed, hair mussed, eyes serious without the glasses, and for a moment looks so handsome that Izaya feels an ache of something that definitely shouldn’t be there.

He looks away.

“Well, I’m getting out of here before you change your mind and kill me.”

Not his best parting shot, but he’s too desperate to get away to care.

He waits until he’s pretty sure Shizuo isn’t following to fall back against one of the tree trunks, sinking down out of sight until he’s nestled in its roots.

What the fuck had just happened?

* * *

 

Izaya stares at Celty’s PDA that she holds helpfully in front of his face.

“What do you mean, no?”

She takes it back to type rapidly.

_-You upset Shizuo._

He feels a vague twinge of unease at this. He’s pretty sure Shizuo wouldn’t have told her what happened, but something obviously isn’t right if he is coming across as ‘upset.’

“I’m always upsetting Shizu-chan. It’s never stopped you before,” he says airily. “You shouldn’t let your personal attachments get in the way of your job.”

_-You went too far this time. You made him miss his brother’s show._

“Wasn’t there an evening show he could have caught?” he asks, sounding bored. He takes out his own phone to avoid her accusatory stare. For a headless being, she pulls it off unnervingly well.

 _-That’s not the point_.

“Kasuka has loads of shows and things,” Izaya says dismissively, although he doesn’t know why he’s bothering to defend himself: there are plenty of couriers working for him. He doesn’t need to convince her.

_-He’s upset, and I’m not working for you until you sort it out._

“Sort it out? Fine, I’m sure a nice sundae or something should do it! That brute and I have been at each other’s throat for years, Celty – how exactly do you propose I ‘sort it out’?”

She looks at him, deadpan. She pulls that off even better. Must be all those years living with Shinra.

_-I don’t care. Fix it._

He stares after her in dismay as she rides off. _Now_ what is he supposed to do?

* * *

 

He decides, with an irony that isn’t lost on him, that he will stay out of Ikebukuro. At least for a little while. If Shizuo is ‘upset,’ then that will surely make him happy.

Izaya may not need Celty but, she’s interesting, she’s fast, she makes Shinra happy and, well, it’s just more fun to keep her around.

Or so he tells himself. It’s nothing to do with the fact that the whole thing still makes him uneasy. That he could do with a break from Ikebukuro and its monster.

* * *

 

The night he does need to go back, he chooses it on Kasuka’s final performance, when he’s sure Shizuo will be preoccupied. He gets there earlier than he means to, and sneaks into one of the skyscrapers he hadn’t been up in a while. It’s not the highest, and certainly not the most glamourous, but it gives a nice view of the theatre.

Izaya crosses his arms over the wall and leans on it, head on his arms, and watches the limousines come and go. He tries to make out who’s on the red carpet. He also looks out for bleached blonde hair in the crowds, but obviously it’s too far to see.

He lets his mind wander as he looks down. Tall buildings have always made him feel peaceful, away from the world. He digs in his pocket for change, and watches a coin fall from his fingers into the night, too insignificant to make a sound.

The crowds are beginning to disperse. It must be starting soon. He’ll stay for a few more minutes, he thinks, to be safe, and then he’ll get going.

He’s leaning there, relaxing, when he smells something. Smoke. He thinks, bizarrely, that the building must be on fire, that he’s going to die up here alone and doing nothing, but when he turns round and, instead of flames and smoke, he sees only a glint in the dark.

A cigarette, held by Shizuo, leaning against the opposite wall watching him. Izaya has no idea how long he’d been there.

“Shizu-chan,” he greets, secretly praising himself for how casual he sounds. He drops his hands on to the wall behind him, feigning calm.

“Izaya-kun,” he returns, also calm.

“What are you doing here?”

Shizuo pauses, inhaling as he considers.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I asked first.”

Shizuo holds his gaze, and Izaya tries to look past him to the staircase door, without looking like he’s looking at it.

“I saw you come up here,” Shizuo says finally.

“Shouldn’t you be down there?”

Izaya gestures vaguely to the theatre.

“It’s not starting yet. I needed some air.”

“I thought you’d want to be there for every moment.”

A tease creeps into his tone, but Shizuo is unphased.

“I’ve seen it five times already.”

Izaya snickers. Of course he had.

“Any good?” he stalls, when he sees Shizuo is about to ask him again what he’s doing here.

Shizuo shrugs.

“It’s all right.”

“Just all right? Have you told him that?”

“He agrees with me.”

The wind picks up.He inadvertantly breathes in the smoke from Shizuo's cigarette as if Shizuo were right in front of him, and he tightens his throat.

Shizuo continues to watch him.

“What are _you_ doing here, Izaya-kun?”

“Nothing,” he says innocently, unsure if Shizuo means Ikebukuro, or the roof itself. “I’ve been working.”

He’s been bored stiff.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Shizuo almost smirks as he says it, and Izaya bristles at this.

“I have not,” he says. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Because you thought I was inside.”

Izaya's eyes flicker towards the stairs again, although he can see he can't make it. Shizuo is far too close.

“If you must know,” Izaya says, like it is the most boring topic of conversation in the world. “Celty turned down some work I need because apparently I’ve upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” Shizuo answers. “I was just freaked out.”

Ah, so they are going to talk about it. There goes Izaya's fantasy of pretending it never happened.

Izaya glances behind him, half-heartedly hoping for another roof he could make a leap for.

“You’d rather jump off a building than talk about it?”

Shizuo sounds amused, and Izaya knows he should be too, but Shizuo’s cigarette is getting low, and he doesn’t want to think about what will happen when he finishes it. His hands tighten on the wall behind him.

“Yes.”

Shizuo snorts. He smokes down the last of his cigarette and flicks the stub away.

Izaya doesn’t move. His clings to the wall like it will help him, unsure if Shizuo is about to kiss him or kill him.

Shizuo straightens from the wall. He looks Izaya over but, instead of coming forwards, he heads back to the stairs.

“See you around, Izaya-kun.”

Izaya stands there in confusion, his heart in his mouth, as the door slams. Shizuo’s descending steps fade away.

* * *

 

He goes home with a sense of defeat, dropping his clothes to the floor without bothering to put them away. He goes to get a bath. His eyes close as he tips his head back into the water, trying to let it all out, but his mind keeps coming back to the roof, the unsettlingly feeling of anti-climax as Shizuo had walked away.

It was a _good_ thing that Shizuo had walked away. It _was_.

_Get over it.  
_

His mind goes back to the gardens, trying to figure out what exactly was making him so uneasy. His cock twitches as he remembers.

He sighs and slides a hand down, giving into it. He might as well get it out of his system.

By the time he’s done, dried off and dressed and thinking of sleep, someone knocks on his door. It’s not as surprising as it should be, given the hour. Masaomi comes over this late, as well as clients, now and then, with an urgent request.

He runs his hands through his still damp hair as he heads for the door. He’d only spent the last hour thinking about the man, yet it doesn’t occur for him for a minute that this is who it could be.

He stares at Shizuo, dumb, too shocked to even shut the door.

He should have expected the violence he kisses him with, and he _really_ shouldn’t moan when his back hits the wall like that.

“What did you expect?” Shizuo growls. “You think you can pull some shit like that and it’ll just go away?”

Izaya groans and pulls his arms round Shizuo’s neck, because no, he doesn’t want it to go away. He climbs Shizuo’s body, locking his legs round Shizuo’s waist, bare feet digging into his back, while Shizuo’s arms support him. His skin feels clean, over-sensitive, from the bath, and Shizuo smells of smoke and the outside. He wants to drag Shizuo to the floor and scratch words into his back. 

They half-crawl up the stairs to his bedroom, Shizuo undressing him as they go.

“Shizuo,” he whines as they fall on the bed. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Anything,” he says, clinging to him. “Anything.”

* * *

 

It’s not until he wakes that it occurs to him that he can’t really run away from his own apartment. He could try, but, it’s a Saturday. Shizuo would probably stay and wait for him just to piss him off. Izaya sighs to himself. His insides still feel light, worn out. He couldn't bring himself to leave anyway.

He rolls over to look at the protozoan. His face looks different, softer, without the glasses. Izaya watches him sleep like it will help him read his mind, like the answers must be there if he only looks long enough.

He feels absent-mindedly for his phone, remembers it will still be in his clothes, tangled somewhere on the floor or littering the staircase.

He rolls on his back to stare at the ceiling, gives in when his eyes grow heavy.  

He plans on letting Shizuo do the talking as soon as he’s awake, to try and trip him up, but as soon as he finds those hazel eyes on his own, he finds himself blurting,

“Why did you come?”

“Huh?”

Shizuo blinks a little, as if this is too difficult for first thing in the morning. Then he shrugs.

“You wanted it.”

“You wanted it too,” Izaya counters at once, like it’s a competition.

“Duh.”

Izayagoes quiet for a moment, studying him. 

“Sex really chills you out, hm?” he says, thinking of the past few weeks.

“It should chill you out too,” Shizuo says. He opens his eyes unexpectedly, catching Izaya staring at him.

“What?” He says.

Izaya says nothing.

“You scared of me now?”

“No,” he snaps.

“You sure?”

He draws Izaya closer to nuzzle his hair, and it isn’t _fair_ , it isn’t fair how Shizuo’s so calm about all this, and _he’s_ the one getting all worked up.

“I hate you,” he says, as he feels his cock stirring.

“I hate you too, Izaya-kun.”


End file.
